


Misery Loves Company

by Wolfcry22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Common Cold, Dean Winchester Whump, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Fever, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Influenza, Medical Procedures, Overprotective Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Sad Sam Winchester, Seizures, Sick Character, Sick Dean Winchester, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic, Sneezing, Whump, Worried Dean Winchester, Worried Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26952217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: Sam is depressed after Jessica's death and basically shuts down, even from Dean for a while. Dean is coming down with something, but he doesn't want to share that with his brother. So, he just tries to fight through it until he can't hide it any longer and he has to rely on Sam to take care of him.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	1. Repressed Emotions

**Author's Note:**

> Warning in this story for language, seizures, and other possibly triggering themes that may be traumatic for some readers.

Dean grunted as he leaned against the Impala as he filled it up with gas. He coughed a bit to clear his throat, lifting a hand to rub at his tight chest and then trailed his fingers up to the underside of his throat. It was definitely sore and it wasn't just because of the bitterness of the Minnesota air. Luckily, they would be leaving this state soon and would be heading to Washington, which wasn't much better weather wise. 

However, right now he wasn't concerned about himself. He was concerned, like always, about his little brother. Sam had hardly spoken to him in a month about anything, let alone how he was feeling about Jessica. Dean couldn't exactly relate since he hadn't lost someone like that. But, he had lost people before. He had lost his mother and he was trying to remember his grief when that had first happened, even though he was only four years old at the time. He was trying his best to be there for his brother, but it was difficult when his brother would hardly look at him, let alone speak to him.

Suddenly, Dean doubled over with a harsh sounded sneeze.

"Hutchhs!"

Dean lifted a hand and rubbed the side of his nose with a sniff. He was just glad that he wasn't an overly loud sneezer. That was Sam’s MO. Besides, the last thing that he needed was for Sam to realize that he was sick. It wasn't like Sam would make fun of him for it, but Sam was already pretty out of it as it was. Best not to complicate things. He had to focus on Sam and whatever depression he had fallen into. He didn't need Sam worrying about him.

Dean immediately finished pumping the gas and climbed into the Impala with a final powerful sniffle. He looked over at his brother and saw him leaning against the passenger door, head tipped forward and posture rigid. If Dean didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that his brother was sleeping on his feet. However, he could he wasn't sleeping since his eyes were opened and fixed ahead, but he made no inclination that he even noticed that his brother was sitting right there across from him.

This wasn't good for either of them. When Dean got hit with a cold, he got hit hard and fast. There was nothing that he could do to stop it either. Also, it wasn't like he was usually able to keep it to himself either. They were used to sharing everything and germs were no exception. They also couldn't just spend the rest of the drive together in the Impala. That would only result in Sam catching Dean's cold quicker.

"Hey, Sammy, what do you say we get a motel and sleep for the night for a change," suggested Dean hopefully.

Sam didn't even try to look over at him. "Fine."

That was about all that Dean could get out of Sam these days. He was lucky if his brother talked to him at all. It was mostly nods and shakes of his head. Dean hated that this was how they were reduced to sharing moments now. Dean would give anything for the Sam before Stanford, even if he was a bit moody. At least he spoke to Dean more than anyone else. Now, Sam was just tired and depressed. He didn't sleep and he didn't eat. He was basically a shell of Dean's old brother.

Dean nodded slowly and suddenly pitched to the side to sneeze against his shoulder.

"Hutchsh! Hutcshsh! Ugh!"

Sam didn't flinch, didn't speak, didn't even look over. Dean scrubbed at his nose before he shrugged his shoulders. "’Bless you, Dean.’ Thanks, Sammy! I really appreciate it," Dean grumbled as he drove forward, muttering under his breath about Sam being moodier than before Stanford when he was pissed at the world.

He drove them to the nearest motel and went to buy them a room. Once he did, he brought the Impala around and parked it. He nudged Sam's shoulder since he seemed dead to the world. "Come on, Sam. Let's get going and some real sleep."

Sam dragged himself from the Impala and forced himself to grab his duffle. He draped it over his shoulder briskly. Dean grabbed his and made their way to their room. Dean unlocked it and smiled at the familiar sight of a bathroom, kitchenette, and desk. It was what they were used to and Dean felt a little hollow to call this home.

"Do you want to grab a shower," offered Dean as he pointed toward the bathroom.

Sam said nothing as he walked over to one of the beds. He set his duffle on the floor as he fell face first on the lumpy motel bed. He buried his head into the pillow, hardly making a sound. Dean couldn't tell if Sam was trying to go to sleep or not, or even if he was just being Sam and wanted some alone time. Either was, Dean didn't want to interrupt it. Sam was fragile these days. He knew that it would get better eventually, but at what cost.

"Hutchsh! Hutcshs! Hutchshs!"

Dean straightened and rubbed the wrist of his jacket under his nose. Dampness left streaks on the leather and Dean stifled a groan. He pulled himself out of it before he looked at Sam. He didn't think that he would respond if he told him anything, but he could at least try.

"Um, I'm going to take a shower," he announced.

Again, Sam didn't stir, didn't answer, didn't move. Dean worked his teeth over his bottom lip in discomfort before he grabbed clothes to change into. He headed into the bathroom, raising his hands to his still itchy, tickling nose.

"Hutcshsh! Hutcshsh! Htchshs!"

Dean grumbled as he kept one hand clamped over his streaming nose and used the other to grab a wad of toilet paper. He rubbed it against his runny nose and blew with a thick gurgle. Dean grimaced in disgust as he crumpled the wilted piece of toilet paper and threw it away. He rubbed his fingers against his eyes, feeling the strain from driving all day. Sam would’ve driven if Dean asked him to, but Dean didn't trust him right now. He was just too depressed.

Dean turned on the shower and heard the spray spatter the walls. He quickly undressed, still pawing feebly at his nose. He felt it tickle and burn deep in the back of his sinuses, but no sneeze had made their presence yet. He just wished that he could sneeze already and get it over with. That seemed like the best option, but he couldn't force it out. He was going to have to wait.  
  
Dean climbed into the shower and let the water cascade down him. He lifted his head into the stream as the water pummeled against his aching sinuses. It managed to irritate his nose enough to elicit a sneeze. His breath started hitching and his chest expanded as his eyes slammed shut.

"Hutcshsh! Htchshs! Hucshsh!"

He sneezed freely in the shower. The droplets of snot and saliva landed on the front wall and in the stream. Dean grumbled to himself as he rubbed a wet hand over his face blearily. It did nothing to clean up the liquid that was still running from his twitching nostrils. If anything it just spread it around to the rest of his face. He stifled a groan. This wasn't working.

Soon his nose became so full that even breathing caused a thin stream of snot to trickle down. He tried wiping it away, but it did nothing. So, he lifted his hands over his face and took in a deep breath before he blew loudly.

Thick, sticky, and warm mucus flowed into his hands. He felt it almost pool there and seep between his fingers. Dean spread his hands and part of it fell with a strange splat on the ground. He shuddered at his own grossness before he started to wash off his hands in the water in front of him. He sniffed powerfully and felt the remainder of the snot run down his throat. He coughed at the post nasal drip and realized how gross he was being. This sucked!

As soon as he started to shiver despite the marginally warm water, he knew that it was time to get out. That was fine by him. He stepped out and started to towel himself off with the scratchy towel that seemed to be older than he was. Once he was finished, he slipped on one of his favorite t-shirts that once belonged to his dad, a pair of boxers, and too long sweatpants before he made his way out of the bathroom. He took a roll of toilet paper, since he was sure this place didn't have tissues. 

He headed back into the room and stole a quick glance over at Sam's bed. He was sure that his brother was still awake. Sam hardly slept these days and when he did, he had nightmares that left him thrashing and screaming in the middle of the night. Sam would never want to talk about it and would always brush Dean off when his brother attempted to start conversation about it. It was the same result each time Dean asked, but that didn't mean that he would ever stop trying.

"I'm not that hungry, Sam, but if you are you can go and get yourself something," Dean offered over his shoulder as he coughed wetly in his fist, feeling his chest heave with each congested cough. Usually that sound would at least make Sam—the germaphobe—flinch. He just laid still.

Dean shrugged. "That's okay. I'll just eh..." He paused to take a sudden intake of breath. "Hucshsh! Hutcshhs! Hutcshs!" 

Snot shot from his nose, but luckily Dean's bare wrist had been there to catch it. It was now lathered in a layer of mucus and started to run down his arm and to his elbow. Dean grimaced before he pulled a few squares from the toilet paper and cleaned himself up to the best of his ability. He rolled his eyes since he had just taken a shower and now he was germy all over again.

He took out another wad of toilet paper and blew his nose loudly. When he was finished he threw them in the trash that was a few feet from his bed and crashed onto it, taking the remote in his hand on the way down. He flipped on the TV just as he twisted around to sneeze in his elbow again.

"HtcshsH! Hutcshsh! Hutchsh!"

Dean snorted back the congestion, trying to elicit some some of reaction from Sam. Sam hated when he did that. He just wanted his brother to complain or something, anything! However, he still received nothing from Sam. Dean rolled his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"Not that you would know, and or care, but this sucks, Sammy," Dean grumbled as he felt the tickle intensify once more. He was so damn tired of sneezing! 

"Hutcshsh! Htcshs! ItcsHshsh!"

The sneezes continued to barrel out of him at an alarming rate with Dean struggling to take a breath between them. They weren't overly loud, but they were wet and messy all the same. Dean always had a lot of congestion when he was sick or even with his allergies. Luckily, he usually wasn't sick for overly long, but that didn’t mean that he wanted his brother to catch this. He was depressed enough without having a itchy and runny nose along with it.

"Hutcshsh! Damnit!"

Dean grabbed more toilet paper and blew his nose once more. Frustration shot through him as he turned off the TV and climbed under the covers. It seemed that all he could do to end this misery was just go to sleep. That was fine by Dean, especially because it wasn't worth being sick without someone to take care of him, and Sam needed Dean to take care of him right now, not the other way around. So, it would probably be best if Dean could just sleep it off, even though it was only eight o'clock.

"Goodnight, Sammy," Dean called over his shoulder, shivering under the thin sheets.

He received no reply, but was it really that shocking?


	2. Bitter Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dean lifted a hand and tried to force Sam to look at him. Sam reluctantly obliged as Dean looked up at him with feverish eyes. "I've always needed you."
> 
> "You were fine without me," argued Sam curtly. "And I was fine without you!"

Dean awoke and felt something cool on his forehead. He opened his bleary eyes and saw someone bathing his face with a damp washcloth. He sucked in a deep breath as he looked up and saw Sam sitting over him, jaw clenched in worry. He winced at the cool washcloth that bathed his face as Sam's face finally came into view.

"Hmmm, Sammy," croaked Dean.

Sam stretched out a hand and smoothed Dean's sweaty hair back from his forehead. "It's okay, Dean," whispered Sam gently and soothingly. "Just go back to sleep."

"What are you doing," Dean asked as the world seemed to weigh down on him almost immediately.

Sam rested a hand on his shoulder to hold him down. "Your fever spiked. You were shaking and mumbling in your sleep. I had to get it down."

This was the most that Sam had talked to Dean in almost a month. He blinked his eyes before he turned his head, squirming and moaning as his mouth parted. He looked to Sam, willing him to understand, before he turned away and sneezed powerfully against the pillow.

"HtcshsH! Hutcshsh! Htchshs! HtcshsH!"

Somewhere in the middle of the fit, Dean felt a tissue press against his nose. He winced at the tissue against his chapped nose, but Sam seemed to understand. He wiped upward at Dean's nose, trying to clean him up.

"Sabby," Dean started.

Sam clamped another tissue over Dean's face and Dean tried to pull away, but Sam wasn't having it. He squeezed it hard and looked at him. "Blow your nose, Dean. I'm not going anywhere else until you do."

Dean reluctantly blew his nose loudly. Once he was finished, Sam folded the tissue again and cleaned Dean up once more. He threw the tissue away as he took the washcloth and dipped it into a bowl of water that was perched on the nightstand beside their beds and pressed it over Dean's forehead, causing him to shiver.

"It sucks, but it'll lower your fever. I'll be happy with anything under 102," Sam told him, although Dean suspected that he was talking more to himself. It was as if he was getting used to his voice again.

Dean blinked his eyes blearily. "I'm fine, Sammy."

"You are not fine and you know it," Sam snapped back with such authority in his voice that Dean actually listened to him. He was just pleased that his brother was speaking to him again.

Dean coughed wetly, turning his head so that he didn't cough on his brother. Each wet hack radiated through his entire body and threw him forward. He suddenly felt his brothers grip his shoulders and haul him into a sitting position. Dean tried to pull away, but he was too weak. He leaned against Sam and Sam patted his back, trying to loosen the congestion.

Eventually, Dean's coughing fit died away as tears caught in his gaze. Sam nodded down to him before he picked up more tissues and handed them to Dean. "Try blowing your nose again."

"Sammy, why are you doing this," Dean mumbled as he pressed the tissues against his inflamed nostrils and noisily blew his nose, congestion seeping onto the tissue. He dropped the wilted tissue bedside him, looking to his brother for an answer.

Sam shrugged. "I guess because you would do the same for me, right?"

"In a second," replied Dean with a small laugh, that turned into an exhausted cough. The cough seemed to only infuriate his sinuses more as he lifted a hand and rubbed his wrist against it. "Ugh!"

"HtcshsH! Htcshsh! Hutcshshsh! Htcshsh!"

"Bless you," Sam whispered as Dean blew his nose again. "I think that we should stay put for a few days. There isn't any point in moving until you're better."  
  
Dean groaned as he leaned even more heavily on his brother's shoulder. "I was supposed to take care of you this week, not the other way around."

"I think that you did take care of me," Sam commented.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "How do you figure that, because you're obviously seeing something that I'm not," he reported dryly.

"Well, I haven't really been myself since after Jess's death and I haven't seen you in almost four years. That's a major gap in time for us, considering that we used to spend almost every waking minute together. I just wasn't ready to let you in," Sam tried to explain quickly.

Dean grunted in response. "So what changed?”

"I saw how sick you were and that you needed me for a change," Sam answered cooly as he turned to look away from Dean.

Dean lifted a hand and tried to force Sam to look at him. Sam reluctantly obliged as Dean looked up at him with feverish eyes. "I've always needed you."

"You were fine without me," argued Sam curtly. "And I was fine without you!"

Dean set his jaw in discouragement. He tried to pull away from Sam, but he was too dizzy and feverish to do so successfully. 

Sam seemed to notice what he had said and how it had effected his brother. He extended his arm to pull Dean back, even as Dean tried to shrug him off. Sam allowed him to even though Dean was still perched on his shoulder.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that we were both okay until we came together again and it had to be a reason for it and I'm glad that we did. You're my brother and I do need you," Sam explained, hoping that Dean would listen to him.

"I know what you meant, Sammy," Dean replied as he looked down at his fingers as he picked at a scab on his hand. "I'm sorry about what happened to Jess."

"It wasn't your fault. It's not my fault. It's no one's fault. I need to understand that and get over it, considering that she's gone and not coming back, just like mom."

"Htcshsh!"  
  
Dean pitched forward once more with his hands positioned over his face. He stayed there for a moment, watery eyes lifted to look over at Sam. "Um, Sabby?"

Sam wordlessly pulled some tissues from the box and offered them to Dean. Dean took them in his one hand and started to clean up his face. Once he was finished, he cleaned off his hand and threw it in the direction of the trash. He missed miserably and Sam snorted in amusement.

"That was terrible!"

"You try making shots like that when you're sick," Dean flashed back in amusement before he looked toward the motel door. He felt something seem to stir inside him before he swung his legs over the side of the bed with Sam keeping a hand firmly placed in the small of his back.

"Easy, are you going to the bathroom," Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, panting with the effort. "No, I'm going somewhere much better."

Confusion showed in Sam's eyes as he watched Dean struggled to stand on extremely weak legs. Sam shot out an arm to steady him as Dean wavered on his feet. Sam gripped his shoulders as he looked at him intently. "Dean, where are you trying to go?"

"The Impala," Dean answered after a minute of painful coughing.

Sam's eyes widened before he shook his head, although he was helping Dean walk toward the door. "That is a terrible idea. We have a motel that's warm and safe and roomy. Why would you want to go out there?"

"Because, Sam, when you were gone and Dad wasn't here, all I had was the car. She made me think that things weren't hopeless and that you were coming back," Dean explained, sweat starting to roll down his face.

Sam came in front of Dean and blocked his path. He almost crumpled to the ground, but Sam stretched out his arms to catch him. He let out a breath of relief and patted his back. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Not anymore. You don't need the Impala to feel like I'm here."

Dean turned hurt and betrayed eyes to his brother. "I don't believe you."

Sam tried not to feel offended. He steered Dean back to the bed and forced him to lay down. Dean growled in discomfort as he forced himself to sit up. "Sam—“

"You're going to stay here until you can stand on your own two feet," Sam told him forcefully.

Dean grumbled as he buckled forward with two unrestrained sneezes.

"Htcshshsh! Htcshshsh!"

"And I'm going to stay here until you get better, just like you used to do for me," Sam continued as if Dean hadn't interrupted him.

Dean rubbed his nose upward with his wrist, feeling his wrist become slick with snot almost immediately. He reached over and pulled some tissues out from the box, grimacing at how rough it was. "If I known that this was all it took for you to talk to me then I would've gotten sick a month ago!"

"Shut up," Sam muttered as he went over to his own bed and laid down flat on his back. 

Dean watched him for a few minutes before he clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Sam?"

"Yes," Sam answered.

"Did you think about me at all when you were at Stanford," Dean asked despite himself.

Sam paused before he turned to look over at his brother. "Everyday, but you know why I left. I've told you. I didn't want this life."

"And, now," Dean questioned, his gaze flickering between tiredness and determination to hear what Sam had to say.

Sam folded his hands and rested them on his chest. "Now, I know where I belong and that's where I'm staying. You may not think so, but I'm not going anywhere, not anymore."

Dean smiled to himself as he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "I know you're not, Sammy. I know you aren't."


	3. Complicated Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam scooted closer to Dean and pressed the towel against Dean's forehead. Dean hissed as he drew away. Surprise showed on Sam's face as he grasped the towel tightly in his hand. "Dean, what's the matter?”
> 
> "Hurts," complained Dean in a raspy voice.

Dean awoke in the middle of the night and looked around madly. He sat up straight and started to panic as he felt tightness in his chest. He started to cough painfully as tears forced themselves from his eyes.

"Sam? Sam!" 

Dean started to squirm in bed, lifting a hand to his face to try and contain the coughs that erupted from him. He closed his eyes as he focused just on breathing and not panicking. He felt his nose start to itch with all the coughing that he was doing and it was just making him feel worse than he was already feeling.

"Hutchsh! Huhtcsh! Hetcsh!"

"Bless you."

Dean looked around in the darkness with his eyes struggling to focus. He sniffed powerfully and lifted up the sheets of the bed and rubbed it at his nose. He slightly whimpered as he tried to figure out who had spoken.

"Dean, you okay?" 

"Sabby?"

There was a shuffling of covers before Sam turned on the small lamp light and walked over to his brother in the darkness. He sat on his bed and stretched out his hand and rested it on Dean's shoulder. Dean looked beyond terrified and Sam could see his face in the shadow of the lamp's light.

"It's alright," Sam began since he could see the fear on his face. He stretched then out a hand and rested it on the his forehead. He cupped his cheeks while Dean shook his head away from Sam. "Your fever spiked I think."

Dean looked at Sam like he was looking right through him. Sam sighed loudly as he grabbed the towel that he had been using to cool his brother down since it was clear that his fever was spiking. He headed to the bathroom and ran it under the cold water. It was the only time that he would be thankful to the lack of warm water. Once Sam wrung it out, he headed back to Dean's bed. He sat down heavily and allowed the bed to dip toward him.

Sam scooted closer to Dean and pressed the towel against Dean's forehead. Dean hissed as he drew away. Surprise showed on Sam's face as he grasped the towel tightly in his hand. "Dean, what's the matter?”

"Hurts," complained Dean in a raspy voice.

Sam could only imagine what he was going through. He hadn't recalled the last time that Dean had been sick, but he tended to get hit pretty hard when they were kids. Dean would seem to be hit almost overnight and then John or Sam would have to nurse him back to health for almost a month. He didn't get sick often. It just hit him that much harder when he eventually did.

"I know, but this is going to make you feel better. I don't want you getting worse," Sam tried to explain. Both of them could be stubborn and it was usually a toss up who came out on top.

Dean cautiously looked at Sam like he was some sort of enemy. "M'not gonna get worse," he argued.

"I've heard that one before. It starts off with just a sore throat and a cough and then you have a fever and a sinus infection," Sam argued as he lifted the towel and placed it on Dean's forehead. Dean squirmed madly, but Sam stretched out a hand on his shoulder to stop him from moving. That caused Dean to moan in pain and Sam quickly drew back. "Sorry, but I can't help it that you're making this difficult for me."

Dean cautiously shook his head. "Sabby."

"Just relax, dude. You're only going to make this more difficult for yourself," Sam chided as he tried to help his brother lay back, but it wasn't working very well. "Can you just work with me, please?”

"No, Sabby—“ Dean trailed off.

"You have to tell me what you really need, Dean. I can't just gather it from—“

"Hutcsh! Hetcshsh! Hutchshs!" 

Sam closed his eyes until finally opening them and looking down at his brother. "Dean," Sam began, but he really had no words for his brother. Sure, his brother's wet sneeze had sprayed his arm with slimy germs, but he tried not to be overly grossed out about it. It wasn't the worst thing that his brother had done to him. 

Dean looked up with watery eyes and sniffled weakly. "Did I get you?" 

Sam decided to save Dean's fragile ego. After all, Dean had done the same for him when he had been a kid. It would probably be best just to do that now, especially with Dean's fever being as high as it was. "No, just missed me," answered Sam as he adjusted the towel on his brother's forehead. "But, let's not come this close again."

"Sabby, can you put somthing on the TV," requested Dean before he started coughing. His chest clenched tightly with each intake of breath. He struggled to breathe as each cough bubbled in chest and throat. He shook with each breath as he struggled to breathe.

"Hey, hey!" Sam rushed forward and grabbed Dean by his shoulders, despite Dean's whimpers because of being touched earlier. "Shhh. Shhh. Easy, easy," he chided as he helped Dean sit up.

Dean slumped against him as he struggled for breath. Sam thumped on his back until he finally was able to suck in a breath through his much abused lungs without choking on himself. Dean sniffled in the aftermath as his nose ran freely.

"Here," whispered Sam as he picked up the tissue box and set it closer to Dean. He drew the line at actually wiping his brother's nose, but this was the next best thing. "It looks like you need this. Now blow."

Dean weakly pulled out a few tissues and folded them together. He placed it over his reddened nose and blew pathetically. It barely made a sound and it was hardly productive. He settled for just wiping it against the underside of each aggravated nostril inside. He set the gleaming tissue down as he sniffed again, earning him a few more coughs.

"Like you mean it," Sam pressed as he picked up the box and tapped it against Dean's thigh. "Let's try this again."

"Why," Dean asked dumbly.

"Because if you don't then you'll just continue to sniffle and if you continue to sniffle like this for hours then I'm going to lose it," replied Sam. He stretched out his foot and hit it against his brother's gingerly. "If you blow this once then I'll quit bothering you and you can watch whatever you want to on the TV. I just don't want to hear you sniffling the rest of the night."

That seemed good enough for Dean. He hated when Sam continued to bug him about things like this. So, he pulled out a new batch of tissues and folded them over his nose. He sucked in a breath before he blew as hard as he could. Once he ran out of breath he swiped upward at his nose and folded it. He threaded it over his nose and repeated the process. He did the same thing one more time before he could finally breathe a bit through his nose. He smiled at his brother as he crumpled the used tissue in the palm of his sweaty hand and rested his head back on Sam's shoulder.

"Okay, let's see what's on TV," Sam offered as he reached for the remote on the nightstand. He turned on the TV and started going through the channels. "Cooking show, Home Improvements, Back to the Future."

Dean made a small noise in the back of his throat since talking had become painful and exhausting. Sam took that as a sign that Dean wanted him to stop. He set the remote down, but not before he turned up the volume so that Dean's clogged ears could actually hear what Marty was talking about. "Good pick."

Dean let out another strange sound in the back of his throat. It sounded like a mix of congestion and dryness. Sam could only imagine how uncomfortable that would be. He just wished that he had some medication to give him or something. But, all they had was what was in the first aid kit and that was for bandaging and stitching wounds, not for colds.

"Sab," Dean croaked in a tone that was just above a whisper.

"Yeah, Dean," asked Sam as he tried to watch the scene where Marty's mother was actually trying to fall in love with him. That part always creeped him out.

"Did you used to watch Back to the Future in college? With Jess," Dean mumbled.

Sam looked down to his brother and shivered. There's no way that Dean would've even suggested that if his fever wasn't over 103. Dean knew how hard Sam had taken her death and to just ask a question like that so soon after was quite insensitive in Sam’s eyes. But, he knew that his brother hadn't asked that question out of malice. He was curious, feverish, and wanted to make conversation, no matter how stupid. Sam saw that even if Dean didn't.

"Yeah, sometimes," answered Sam as he tried to humor his brother. "But, it was never as good as when me and you watched it."

"Really? Why not?" 

Sam was about to answer until he saw the look of fright and desperation on his brother's face. Sam stifled a sigh as he fished out a few tissues from the box. He placed them in Dean's hand just in time for Dean's breath to start hitching, his nostrils to flare, and his eyes to jam shut. Dean wouldn’t have made it into the tissues if Sam wouldn't have physically lifted Dean's hand by the wrist and force the tissues up to his nose.

"Huttcshhs! Hetcshhsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh!"

Sam could hear the wetness of all of the sneezes and he saw the congestion seeping through the tissues. He had thought that he picked up enough, but clearly Dean's cold was getting worse and it was harder to contain. It wouldn't be long before an entire clump of tissues wouldn't be enough for just one of Dean's cold sneezes. That was when the illness would go from annoying cold to debilitating sinus infection. Sam was not looking forward to that gross side of his brother.

"Sabby," Dean whimpered as he tried to remove the tissues from his nose. Sam caught sight of what appeared to be an unbelievable amount of milk colored, thick, slimy, snot. It was still pooling from Dean's nose and it was becoming almost impossible to stop with the tissues that he had.

Sam pressed the tissues back over Dean's nose for the time being, earning him a surprised look for his brother. "Just keep that there for a second until I can get you more tissues.”

Sam grasped blindly into the box so that he could still keep an eye on his brother. He immediately frowned when he noticed that all that was down there was cardboard. He chewed on the inside of his mouth before he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Where are you goig," Dean asked frantically. 

Sam turned to face him quickly. "I'm just going to get more tissues. Don't freak out," Sam sympathized as he headed into the bathroom. He looked for another box of tissues, but he couldn't find any. He swore under his breath, begrudgingly grabbing a roll of toilet paper and heading back into the bedroom.

He came over to Dean’s bed and sat down beside his brother. Dean picked up the tissue and held it out to Sam. Sam shuddered as he took it in his hand and threw it on the ground. He would worry about that later.

"I can't find tissues right now, but until I feel comfortable leaving you for twenty minutes, you're going to have to make do with this," Sam told him as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and tore off nearly half the roll. He extended it out to his brother and Dean grabbed it before Sam was even close to handing them over. 

Dean started to clean up the mess from his nose and upper lip. He turned it over and blew his nose, coughing through it. Once he was finished, he looked back over to his brother. His eyes fluttered in exhaustion. "Why did you like it when we watched the mobie?"

"Because you used to act it out all the time and you wouldn't stop talking like Dr. Brown for an entire week afterwards. It was probably the most fun that we had," Sam told him softly.

Dean blinked his eyes as he leaned as much into Sam was possible. "I miss those days."

"Yeah," murmured Sam as he listened to Dean's breathing slightly slow until it was clear that he was the only one watching the movie now. "I miss those days too."


	4. Cold Turns Into Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s not much that Sam can to do help Dean at the moment, but he’s going to try everything.

Dean awoke with a fury of wet coughs. He forced himself to sit up so that he wouldn’t keep choking on the shit that was crawling up his throat from his aching lungs. He tasted something in the back of his throat and his eyes flashed. He looked around, grasping blindly in the darkness until he found the toilet paper roll. He ripped a few chunks off and promptly spit into it. He withdrew when he saw the disgusting phlegm and mucus that had come out of his body. As if sneezing it out wasn't bad enough.  
  
He looked around the room as he rubbed the back of his wrist against the corners of his mouth. He desperately wanted water of some sort, but he didn't think that his legs would carry him all the way to the fridge or to the bathroom. He gulped in disgust, squinting his eyes in the darkness. He had only one thought on his mind.

Where was Sam?

"Sabby," Dean croaked into the darkness.

Dean felt like he was doing that a lot, calling for his brother. When he had been on his own he hadn't mentioned Sam's name at all. Sure, he had thought about him more than he cared to admit, but he never actually mentioned Sam's name aloud. He just thought that it would cause him to crumple just at the thought of him. So, he had put on a brave face in front of his father and even in front of himself. That was until their father had went missing and he had to find Sam. He still wondered if that was the worst decision that he had ever made.

"Dean, did you need something," came a rough and sleepy reply.

Dean looked over to Sam's bed and saw that he had propped himself up on his elbows. He slightly shivered in the thin, white t-shirt that was wearing. His eyes were certainly tired and held the look of a very depressed Sam. He looked like he hadn't eaten in years and his hair was sticking up at strange angles.

"Oh, ub no," Dean replied quickly as heat traveled up to his cheeks. He felt them flush and he struggled to turn away from his brother.

Sam stifled a groan. Dean could be so impossible sometimes! Not to mention stubborn. Dean Winchester was like any other in the other Winchesters in the family. They were stubborn, argumentative, and dealt with pain in less than desirable ways. They mainly just didn't talk about it and that wasn't going to work with Sam. He was already feeling down. It wasn't like Dean's problems were going to make him feel worse.

Sam took one step and felt cold jolt through his entire body. He hurried over to Dean's bed and sat on the other side. His teeth slightly chattered as he looked at Dean, who had thrown most of the covers from his body.

"How can you be hot," Sam gasped in surprise.

Dean rolled over to face his brother with a tiny smile. "How can you be cold?"

"Because it's like 50 degrees in here, that's why." Sam reached a hand forward and rested it against Dean's sweaty forehead. "Hmmm, that's how you can be so hot. Your fever is higher I think."

"Get off!" Dean turned his head sharply as Sam leaned forward. Sam's hand accidentally smacked Dean's overly sensitive and stuffy nose. Dean let out a small whimper as he started to suck in breaths with his chest expanding. He looked up to Sam with a fairly vacant look in his eye before they started to close.

"Cover it," Sam ordered.

Dean immediately lifted a hand and cupped it over his nose and mouth since he was literally inches from Sam. He stayed there for a half a second before the sound of very loose, wet, and congested sneezes could be heard through the entire motel room.

"Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hutcsh!"

Sam didn't even want to look down after a display like that from his brother. He winced as he heard Dean breathing heavily through his mouth. At first it appeared like his brother might not be finished and that was not an option. "Are you done," Sam asked hesitantly.

Dean sucked in a small breath through his nose. It was just a squelch. "I think so," he answered stuffily. He started to pull his hand away from his nose before he noticed exactly what he had sneezed out. Sure enough the gooey milk colored mucus was gushing from Dean's nose like a waterfall. It seeped into the crevices between his fingers as it started to drip onto the sheets. "Sab!"

Sam could tell by Dean's voice and his eyes that he was panicking. Sam quickly jumped up from the bed, looking for the discarded toilet paper. He had set it on the bed when Dean had fallen asleep on him and when Back to the Future was over. Yet, he couldn't find it.

"Sab, id's dribbing," cried Dean loudly as he used his other hand to try and catch the snot that dripped from his hand onto the sheets. He didn't dare move and risk even more from coming out.

Sam ignored his pursuit of the toilet paper and decided to try something else. He headed into his duffle that was at the foot of Dean's bed. He rummaged around, unable to find a bandanna.

"Hutcsh!"

Dean let out a whimper as he tried to sniff it back. Sam shuddered at the sound. "Don't do that! You're going to give yourself a sinus infection," Sam snapped harshly as he pulled out a flannel shirt from his bag. He knew that this was going to be beyond disgusting, but Dean needed it more than him. He had to give it to him.

Sam rushed back over and sat beside his brother. "Here," he told him forcefully as he pushed the flannel towed him.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Sab?"  
  
"Just use it ya jerk!" Sam sighed as he rolled his eyes. "We can always wash it. It's not a big deal."

Dean grumbled to himself through the congestion before he gingerly grabbed it in the less snotty of the two hands. "Don't look," he pleaded.

Sam shivered. "You don't have to tell me twice." He pivoted on the bed so that his back was to his brother.

Dean quickly pulled both hands from his face and forced the flannel against his still twitching nose. He let out a small breath of relief as he blew his nose into the soft fabric. He moved it around to find a dry spot before he tried it again. Once he had succeeded he cleaned up his face so that there was any reminiscences of the slime that had covered almost the entire lower half of his face. After that he started to clean his hands. They were still slightly sticky when he was finished, but it was better than nothing.

"You finished," asked Sam over his shoulder.

"Yes," answered Dean, feeling sullen and embarrassed. He watched as Sam felt his forehead once more. "What?"

Sam frowned. "Do you think that you could manage a shower? It'll just lower that fever right down," he pleaded.

Dean thought for a moment. He wanted to desperately say 'yes', but he didn't know if he could manage. He didn't want to fall on his ass and have his brother come in to help him when he was naked. That would take the remaining of Dean's dignity right from him. But, he had to at least try so his brother didn't keep looking at him like a wounded puppy.

"I can try," Dean told him evenly groaning as he sat up. His entire body ached like he had just fallen from a building on cement, which he had done before. It was though someone was banging on his bones with a hammer. His muscles ached deep too. There wasn't one part of his body that wasn't in pain.

The difference in pressure when he set up immediately send his nose on a running spree. Dean was about to grab the flannel shirt again, but the itchy sneezes exploded out of him before he had time.

"Hutcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh!"

Sam watched the resulting spray that was illuminated thanks to the light. He was thoroughly relieved that he wasn't facing that direction, but it still grossed him out. Dean fumbled for the flannel and cupped it over his face, rubbing his reddened nostrils desperately. He tried blowing his nose afterwards, but he was so stuffy that it hardly did anything. Yet, his nose continued to run. He growled under his breath as he looked back over to Sam.

"You okay," Sam fretted since he really wasn't sure what else to say.

Dean decided that it was best not to answer. He didn't want to lie and he didn't want to worry Sam. He would end up doing either of those things if he told the truth.

Dean threw the covers off of his legs and swung them over. He set them on the ground and stood up slowly. He took one step and immediately collapsed. Sam dove forward and helped pick his brother off of the ground. Dean leaned into him so much that Sam had to brace himself against the bed to help him up.

"You okay," asked Sam once more when Dean had finally gotten his bearings.

Dean tried his best to shrug his brother off. "I'b fine! Lay off," he snapped as he lifted his arms around himself to try and warm himself up.

Sam released his brother albeit reluctantly. He knew when he was wanted and he was clearly not. "Alright, fine. Just holler or whatever if you need anything, okay?"

"I'd rather just struggle then you help my naked ass," Dean grumbled under his breath. He knew that he didn't have any right to treat his brother like that. The last thing that he wanted was to help his brother on another spiral of depression, but he was just so uncomfortable and miserable and he wasn't sure how to express it.

He quickly looked through his duffle, leaned forward with his forehead almost against the bed. He frowned when he noticed his nose was dripping into his duffle. He quickly raised a wrist to catch it as he grabbed the first pair of sweats and t-shirt that he could find. He straightened immediately and lifted Sam's flannel shirt back up to his nose.

"Hutcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh!"

"Bless you," called Sam as he headed over to his bed and looked up at the ceiling. He knew that he couldn't fall asleep if Dean needed him, but he was tired beyond belief.

Dean ignored him as he headed into the bathroom sluggishly. He closed the door behind him and reached into the shower to turn it on. He turned it as hot as he could possibly go since he was now feeling extremely cold. He didn't understand it. He had been hot just a moment ago.

Dean drew back and waited for it to warm up. He took off all of his clothes and immediately shivered. If he was cold before he was even colder now. 

"Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh!"

Then there was that. Dean hadn't felt that sneeze coming at all. He had just managed to place his hands over his nose, but he hadn't done it quite in time. He had only resulted in covering it halfway through and showering the mirror with droplets of saliva and snot. He flinched when he realized what Sam would say. But, he didn't have the strength to even think about cleaning it up now, so he hoped that Sam wouldn't look too closely.

Dean sighed loudly, which turned into a sore cough as he climbed into the shower. The rain started to run down his shoulders and eased a bit of the uncomfortableness that he was feeling. He was still chilled to the bone and the motel's water was not as hot as he would've liked. But, it was better than nothing and Sam had given him the first shower. He couldn't complain too much.

He took a step further into the shower as the water started to run through his hair. It ran down his face and started to tickle his nose. He wrinkled his nose and brow to try and halt the sensation. However, it did nothing and he couldn’t help but just allow the sensation to overwhelm his sinuses since he was alone in the shower. It couldn't get more private in their line of work than that.

"Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh!"

Dean felt the force of the sneeze radiate from the back of his throat to the front. He stifled a moan as he lifted a hand to his throat and struggled to breathe for a moment. The congestion was actively dripping from his nose and he was allowing it to happen for the time being. He closed his eyes shut as his head throbbed. This was only going to get worse before it got better.

He lifted a hand and cupped it under his nose. He sucked in a powerful breathe before he blew his nose loudly into his hand. A large glob of fluid snot was deposited in the palm of his hand. He immediately grimaced at what had just come out of him before he tipped his hand over. The glob fell on the floor with a splat while Dean showered off his hand and tried not to be repulsed at himself.

He was only in there a few minutes more before the water turned drastically colder. He toweled himself off and forced on his boxers, sweatpants, and t-shirt. He thought about grabbing a sweatshirt, but he was sure that Sam would frown at that. He wouldn't allow Dean to be too too bundled up in case his fever spiked again. He decided it was best not even to try.

Dean headed into the bedroom and saw that Sam was still awake. The lamp was on and he was reading a book. Then again, he had been reading the exact same book for ages. Dean had never read it, but he knew that Sam enjoyed it. 

"Hey, took you long enough," Sam joked as he set the book aside. 

Dean shrugged. "Cold."

"Seriously," asked Sam as he walked over to Dean's bed as Dean flopped down into it, using the flannel shirt to wipe at his nose. Sam stretched out his hand once more and felt his brother's forehead. It was still a high fever and he had no idea what he could do for it besides get him medication. But, he still wasn't sure whether or not he felt comfortable leaving Dean alone. 

"Something wrong," asked Dean as he looked past his brother's hand.

Sam shook his head. "No, not at all. Now, how about you get some rest. It's still early," suggested Sam as he almost tucked the covers around Dean.

Dean sighed heavily. He would've fought it off if it wasn't such a nice sediment. "I should help you with the hunt," Dean rasped as he coughed loudly, still shivering.

"Dean," Sam chided as squeezed Dean's shoulder gingerly. "Just get some rest. You're still throwing off heat waves."

Dean sniffled as his eyes started to drift shut. "You won't go anywhere."  
  
"Like out to dinner or out of the bed," asked Sam as he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Dean shook his head in embarrassment as he turned over and snuffled loudly into his pillow. Sam rolled his eyes as he laid down on top of the covers next to his brother. The heat that Dean gave off started to warm him better than the thin sheets. 

"Sam," questioned Dean as he looked over his shoulder in surprise.

"Just go to sleep, Dean, and don't ever mention this again," Sam told him, but there was warmth and affection in his gaze. 

Dean slumped back, laying on his back with his hands on his stomach. He closed his eyes and drifted off knowing that his brother was right beside him.


	5. Escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What started as a simple cold becomes something much more dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings= contains mention and description of seizures, foaming from the mouth, convulsions, and possible triggering themes. Please use discretion.

Dean awoke about ten in the morning. His eyes flung open as he started hacking once more. That was the exact way he had woken himself up earlier and it wasn't pleasant whatsoever. 

"Dean," Sam gasped in surprise as he rushed over to his brother's side. He had been in the bathroom getting ready when he heard what sounded like his brother choking on something in the back of his throat.

Sam sat down and helped Dean sit up. "Hey, what's wrong," asked Sam as he thumped on his back.

Dean shook his head as he reached a hand over his mouth. "Sab," he croaked, thinking that he might throw up if the phlegm stayed in his throat much longer.

Sam seemed to understand. He reached over and grabbed the trash bit. "Spit in here. I know that this is gross."

Dean complied before he coughed up a bit more. Once he was finished he turned his attention over to Sam. "You do," he wheezed in surprise as he drew his head away from the bin.

Sam set it aside before he scooted a bit closer to his brother. "I had bronchitis while I was in college. It was nasty, so if that's what you have then I guess we better set up shop here for a while."

Dean's eyes flickered. He didn't like the idea of having something like that and having to stay put and not hunt. They couldn't afford that and they both knew it. Yet, Sam wasn't saying it. He would do anything for his brother, including work himself to the ground. It also hurt Dean to think that his brother had been sick like that in college and Dean wasn't the one who had cared for him.

"Do you think that you would be okay here for a half an hour at the most," questioned Sam hopefully.

Dean knew that he couldn't tell his brother how terrible he truly felt. Besides, if he was Sam he would've went a little stir crazy by now. "I'll be fine," Dean told him before he flashed a charming smile. "Do you think you could pick up some of those girly tissues you like? Your shirt isn't cutting it anymore."

Sam laughed lightly as he nudged Dean's shoulder slightly with his own. "Whatever you want."

With that Sam climbed off of the bed and walked over to the counter. He grabbed the keys of the Impala and shot one more glance at his brother before he headed out of the motel room. He slammed the door closed and Dean felt the silence weigh down on him like never before. He didn't like the idea of being alone, but the fever mixed with pain sent him off to a noncoherent daze. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door opened and Dean immediately jumped into attack mode. Everything seemed to sway under him as he took a step forward. He staggered, but he caught himself on the side of the bed. He looked around before he reached under Sam's pillow and found the gun that he automatically knew was there. He cocked it back and pointed it at the door.

"Woah, Dean! Dean, it's Sam. It's your brother. Take it easy," Sam ordered gently as he set down the bags on the table and faced his brother with a panicked look in his eyes.

Dean staggered forward as he lifted his elbow to sneeze into it loudly. "Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hutcsh!"

"Dean, sit down before you fall down," Sam tried to tell him as he took a step toward the counter.

"Stop!"

Sam had never heard Dean yell like that before and he certainly didn't want to hear it again. He stopped dead as he looked at his brother. "Okay, okay, I'm not going anywhere."

Dean started to cough again, hearing the sound of something being thrust against the back of his throat. Sam immediately flinched when he heard it. He wanted to desperately rush over to his brother to see if he was okay, but the way that Dean was parading the gun was stopping him. He knew that if Dean thought of him as a threat that he wouldn't hesitate to use it.

"Dean," Sam tried once more as he stretched out his hands toward his brother. "It's okay. Let me help you."

"Get back," seethed Dean as he struggled to keep the gun pointed. He started to cough again and this time something was wrong. He looked over to Sam, grasping at his chest and dropping the gun.

Sam ran over, but Dean was already falling to the floor. Sam grasped Dean by the front of his shirt, swiftly turning him around so that he was laying on his back on the floor. "Hey, hey," Sam tried as he saw the way that Dean struggled to breathe. His eyes were rolling back in his head and he was only letting out partial gasps instead of steady breaths.

Suddenly, Dean's entire body tensed. His back arched and the rest of his body started to convulse. He coughed a bit while foam began to pour from the side of his mouth, streaming down his chin and throat. Sam shook his head in terror as he watched his brother shake and now start to moan without any control over his body.

Sam remembered when their father had made them take a small class on medical procedures. He recalled what to do during a seizure, but when it was his brother things just seemed more vivid, more real.

Sam turned Dean on his side so that he didn't asphyxiate on his own saliva. He continued to thrash and buckle against Sam, jarring Sam’s body. Sam quickly moved him as far away from the bed as possible. The last thing that he wanted was for Dean to break open his skull on the metal legs.

"Dean," Sam whispered as he rested a hand on his shoulder. He knew that he wasn't supposed to restrain him, but he also knew that he didn't want him to injure himself. He was internally panicking. They had never gone through something like this before and he hated it more than anything.

Finally, the fit started to die down. Dean's body appeared to relax out of exhaustion. Sam couldn't have been more relieved, but there was another problem.

"You scared me, Dean," exclaimed Sam as he looked down at his brother. 

He received no answer.

Sam nudged Dean's shoulder, but didn't get a response. He pushed him harder. Still nothing. Alarm set in when he realized that his brother was unconscious and barely breathing.

It was time to call 911. He knew that Dean would hate it, but he didn't have much of a choice.

Sam scrambled over to his phone, which he had set on the counter. He flipped it open and immediately dialed the emergency number.

"911. What is the nature of your emergency," asked the operator sweetly.

Sam felt his heart seem to stop beating. He knew what he had to do. His mind and body just seemed like they weren't connected.

"Hello? What is the nature of your emergency?"

Sam gulped. "Um, yeah, my brother just had a seizure and he um is unconscious and he's barely breathing and I'm not sure what to do," rambled Sam as he started to feel lightheaded himself.

"And what is your name," she asked.

"Sam," Sam croaked.

"Alright, Sam. Can you tell me where you are?"

Sam thought hard. He hadn't really recall where they were. Dean had found the hotel since Sam had been too depressed to care. But, now Dean needed him and he was going to help him.

"Um, the Black Raven Inn. Room number 22. Just hurry," Sam yelled as he watched Dean's lips start to become tinged with blue.

"Alright, Sam. The EMTs are on their way, but you have to stay on the line with me, okay?"

Sam gulped once more, feeling like he was going to be sick," Okay," he answered.

"Good. Now, does your brother have a history of seizures?"

"No, nothing like this. Not once."

"Has he been ill lately? Cold? Flu? Bronchitis or any reason that he should have a fever?"

"He has a cold, but I don't know how high his fever is."

"They'll check when they get there. That might be able to explain his seizure."

"Can I do anything?"

"Just stay with him and if he comes to don't let him thrash around to much. Seizures are painful."

Sam just sat there in terror. He didn't want to think of his brother in discomfort like that. But, he had no idea what exactly he could do to wake him up. He felt like he could just scream in frustration.

"Sam, are you still there?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered as he watched Dean. His chest barely moved at all. It was certainly slow and Sam didn't want to think what would happen if Dean stopped breathing entirely.

"The ambulance is right outside. Open the door and flag them in," the women explained.

Sam reluctantly left his brother and headed to the door. He opened it and saw the ambulance come into the motel parking lot. They pulled up right beside the door and followed Sam into the room frantically.

The first one, an older man with silver hair who was clearly in control of the situation, kneeled beside Dean and used a stethoscope to test his breathing and heartbeat. He frowned when he checked his pulse. He looked up at Sam. "How long has he been like this?"

Sam gnawed at his lip. "Like five minutes," answered Sam as he dug his nails into his arm. "Is he going to be okay?"

The younger man, who was clearly a trainee, pushed Sam back from his brother while the other grabbed the gurney. "We need to get him to the hospital immediately. Which one is your preferred?"

Sam had absolutely no idea where they were. He didn't even think that he remembered what state they were in. He closed his eyes, hanging his head. "Whichever one is closer," he answered.

The young man nodded as he grasped an oxygen mask and placed it over Dean's face. "Can you follow us?"

Sam would've argued that he wanted to come too, but he didn't push the matter. He didn't have the strength to argue with them right now. He just wanted them to help his brother. "Y-Yes."

The older man nodded as he rushed Dean into the ambulance with the younger one taking up the job of driving. Sam stood there in shock for a moment as he shook his head to clear it. He had to focus and be there for Dean since Dean was always there for him.


	6. Attempted Facade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is able to reflect how having Dean in the hospital really shook him.

Dean's eyes pried open as he felt himself almost running, yet he wasn't moving. He moved his head to the side as he struggled to breathe. He looked down and saw stark white walls, neon humming lights, and tons of people in white or scrubs. No! He was in a hospital.

Dean thrashed around ever so slightly and moaned. "Sab! Sab!"

"Easy," chided a voice of an older women as she led him into a small room and closed the curtains. She grabbed his arm and placed something else in his IV. 

Dean moaned as he felt like he was almost separating from his body. He closed his eyes suddenly before everything went black.

When Dean woke up again he felt like someone had broken every rib in his chest and completely beat up his lungs. He opened his eyes and turned his head from side to side. He noticed the mask over his face and lifted a hand to bring it down so that he could yell his brother's name.

Dean immediately felt someone's hand on his wrist. He looked up at smiled when he realized who it was. "Hey, you can't do that. It's helping you. Isn't that what you used to tell me when I was in here?"

"Sab," Dean croaked.

There was relief in Sam's eyes as he brought the chair that he was sitting on closer to his brother’s bed. "Yeah, I'm here. Did you think that I would just leave you here and hit a bar?"

"I would," Dean lied in an attempt to be funny.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know you wouldn't. Don't lie to me."

Dean suddenly started to squirm as he fumbled to pull his mask from his face again. Sam frowned as he smacked Dean's hand away. "What did I just say? Can you not understand me or something?"

"Sab," Dean tried to snap in frustration, but it came out an angry whisper that Sam could barely understand. He had no idea what his brother was so angry about.

Dean turned his head away from his brother as his chest inflated and his breath began to hitch. The itch spread through the innermost part of his nose until he couldn't stop the feeling. His eyes jammed shut as his body buckled forward a bit.

"Hutchshs! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh!"

Sam cringed, once again, at the wetness. He hadn't known that that was what Dean was trying to say. If he would've known, then he would've certainly let Dean lower the oxygen mask.

"Dean," sighed Sam loudly as he rested a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean let out a moan, still not looking at his brother. "Come on. Don't be like that. It can't be that bad."

Dean didn't move.

"Dean, just roll over or I'm going to come to that side," Sam told him.

It took a few heartbeats before Dean rolled over to face his brother. Sam tried not to judge him with his gaze or say anything about the spray that dripped from the oxygen mask and that still flowed from his nose. 

Dean sniffed discretely and that is what brought Sam's attention back to his brother. He immediately looked around and grabbed the nearest tissue box. He reached for Dean's oxygen mask and Dean pulled away.

"Hey, I just want to help you. I'm just going to clean the oxygen mask and you can do the rest," Sam told him gently.

Dean finally relaxed as Sam pulled the oxygen mask over his head while Dean pulled a bundle of tissues from the box. He started to clean up his face as he blew his nose loudly.

Sam took his own bundle of tissues and started to clean the inside of his brother's oxygen mask. It took a while to peel off the sticky substance and make it wearable. Once he had, Sam handed it back to his brother. "Put this on. I don't need you to stop breathing on me again."

Dean chuckled as he forced the contraption over his face. He breathed through the mask to the best of his ability as he struggled to fill his lungs with oxygen. He took in a deep breath and looked up to his brother. "What happened?"

Sam threw the tissues away before he leaned forward to look at his brother."You have a really high fever. 104.5 I think. You had a seizure and collapsed. You scared me out of my mind!"

"I'b fine," whispered Dean as he coughed heavily.

Sam shook his head. "You weren't fine. I'm just thankful that you are now," Sam told him as Dean started to cough again, and this time he struggled to stop. Sam helped Dean sit up as even more ragged coughs tore from his lungs.

A nurse suddenly rushed in and turned up the oxygen on Dean's machine. Dean sucked in a welcomed breath, leaning back and grinning in relief.

"Thanks," Sam told her.

"No problem. The doctor will be in in a little bit to talk to you both," she told them with a genuine smile on her face.

Sam didn't understand how she could be so bubbly right now, but he didn't question it. Some people, especially nurses, were very bubbly and open about almost anything. He just nodded as she left them alone.

Dean looked over to Sam with fear in his eyes. "Why would they need to discuss it with us," Dean asked in terror.

Sam smiled timidly as he rested a hand on Dean's shoulder and sighed deeply. "It's going to be okay. You probably just have pneumonia or something like that."

Dean didn't like the sound of that. Sam had it before and it hadn't been good. Dean just wanted to start to feel better and he couldn't do that in a hospital bed with strangers taking care of him. He hated hospitals more than anything and Sam knew that. 

The two of them were silent until a middle aged man walked in. He smiled as he stretched out his hand for Sam to shake. "Hi. I'm Dr. Morris. And you must be Sam and Dean."

Sam nodded slowly. He wasn't sure what he thought about Dr. Morris. He seemed nice enough, but he knew that he would probably need to be cautious and ask plenty of questions.

"I've heard that you had a rough day," Dr. Morris commented as he looked over at Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes. "That's an understatement," he rasped.

"Well, you had a very high fever, which caused the seizure and you have bronchitis that caused your labored breathing. But, your fever has lowered a bit and we have very strong antibiotics that we can prescribe for you," Dr. Morris explained.

Sam looked up in surprise. "When can I take him home?"

"As soon as he starts to breathe on his own. We don't want a repeat of yesterday, do we," Dr. Morris questioned with a raise of his eyebrows.

Dean shook his head madly, swallowing a few chesty coughs. "Thank you, doc," he choke out as he looked over to Sam.

Dr. Morris nodded as he shifted discretely almost into the curtain. "Just let the nurses know when you need anything. They should be in to lower the oxygen levels soon and we will see if you can begin to tolerate it.”

With that he headed out of the room, leaving Sam and Dean alone. The sound of the hospital seemed to drift into their room. The intercom went off almost every minute, doctors and nurses joked and laughed, and the sound of the patients filled the room as well. 

Sam was about to suggest that they watch TV or something when Dean started to shift. He pulled the oxygen mask down as he fumbled for the tissues, his eyes already closing as his breath hitched. Sam picked up the box and pulled out a few, pressing a bundle of them into Dean’s hand. Dean threaded it over his nose as he buckled forward.

"Hutcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hetcshsh!"

"Bless you," Sam exclaimed as he watched Dean cup the tissues under his nose and rub upward. He set the seeping tissue glob away before he pulled more tissues from the box. He blew his nose with a rumbling honk before he leaned back, breathing loudly through his mouth.

Sam quickly pulled the oxygen mask over his brother's mouth and grabbed the tissues to throw them away. "If you keep that up we'll never leave."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You'd be surrounded by hot nurses."

"I really don't think that this is the place for hot nurses, but if you say so," Sam joked as he sprawled out a bit more in the chair and looked at his brother. He was in pain, feverish, and sweaty. Sam just wished that he could've protected Dean as much as Dean always protected him.

Dean closed his eyes in exhaustion as his breath puffed against the oxygen mask. "Don't think that I won't make you play pool for weeks to pay this off," he teased tiredly.

"Just get some rest," suggested Sam gently. "We'll work out the details later."

Suddenly, Sam's breath caught in his throat. He coughed heavily as he lifted his wrist to his mouth. He quickly composed himself as he frowned. "Excuse me."

"You okay, Sabby," asked Dean in surprise as hie eyes opened.

"Just felt something snagged in the back of my throat is all. I'm fine," Sam reassured as he nudged Dean's hand. "Just get some rest so that we can get out of here."

That seemed to be good enough for Dean since inside he was so damn tired. He closed his eyes and Sam couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Clearly he was going to have to hide this for as long as he could. He could not let Dean know that he was now getting sick.


	7. Leaving The Comfort Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even a trip to the store can’t be simple for the Winchester brothers.

A few hours later Dean was breathing on his own without sign of struggle. He was discharged and hopped up on antibiotics through an IV. His next dose would come from a pill that Sam would pick up at a pharmacy. He also had to pick up more cold supplies since he was catching what his brother had.

"Sab, you're really quied," Dean pointed out as he looked over from the passenger side of the Impala. He almost never sat here, especially now. With Sam being so depressed he was always a little fearful when he drove. Besides, Sam had been doing better and now it appeared that he was shutting down again.

Sam looked over to his brother and huffed in amusement. "Well, you're really stuffy."

Dean tried to breathe through his nose, but he was still congested. He lifted a hand and rubbed it against the slick side of his nose and grumbled loudly. "I cand helb id! I dneed tissues," he growled.

Sam looked around until he saw a local grocery store that would probably have what he was looking for. He pointed to it. "Alright, we'll stop and get somethings. Do you want to wait in the car?" 

Dean shook his head as he stretched a bit, arching his back in the passenger seat. "I'b cobing. I dneed to make sure you ged whad I wandt."

Sam rolled his eyes and instantly regretted it. His body ached deeply when he tried to move. But, he still couldn't let his brother know. So, he grunted to his brother and stepped out of the Impala. Dean followed as he seemed to bundle himself as much as he could in the sweatshirt that Sam had given him. The only problem was that Sam was freezing now. He wouldn't complain, but he desperately wanted to.

"Let's get this over with before you pass out," Sam chided as he walked over to the store with Dean struggling to follow. Swiftly, they both made their way through the entrance. 

Dean stood limply when they first walked in and looked around in surprise. Sam was already making his way to the isle before he noticed that Dean was just standing there. He stifled a groan as he walked back over to him and pulled Dean by the arm so that he was almost leading him. "Come on."

"I forgod whadt I was doig," Dean confessed as he blinked the tiredness from his glassy gaze.

Sam sighed as he continued to lead Dean over to the the medication isle. "It's probably because you still have a fever and probably shouldn't be in here," answered Sam as he started to scan the isle. He had no idea what to get, even though he had some stuff that he bought earlier. At least now that Dean was in there he could pick his own and Sam could have what they had earlier. "Pick out what you want."

"Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh!"

Sam looked over to his brother. Dean was standing halfway over with his hand cupped over his nose in an attempt to catch the resulting spray. He froze as he looked up to Sam, unsure what to do. It was so strange for Sam to have his brother look at him the way that he would usually look at his brother. Dean held his breath for a moment before he whimpered.

"Alright, don't panic. I can fix this," reassured Sam as he walked to the end of the isle and picked up the first box of tissues that he could. He ripped open the top and brought it over to his brother.

He hit the box against Dean's forearm, but Dean wouldn't move. Sam looked over to him and raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong? You're dripping."

Dean slowly threw his head backwards over his shoulder. Sam looked in that direction and frowned when he saw a married couple down the isle. They were stacking a box of tissues beside a package of cold medicine and cough drops that were in the cart already. Sam couldn’t tell which one of them were sick—perhaps it was someone else that they were caring for. Either way, their attention wasn’t on Sam or Dean, but that didn’t seem to matter to Dean.

"What, Dean," asked Sam quietly.

"I cand do id in frond of theb," Dean argued through the congestion and hand in front of his face.

Sam pulled him along from his elbow and helped him over to the end of the isle so that they could disappear a little easier. Once they were there, Sam pulled Dean's hand from his face and pressed a handful of tissues in them instead. "Here. Now there's no one here, but me. Just relax."

Dean pressed the tissues against his nose and blew softly. Once he was finished he tried to clean off his hand. He tucked it into his pocket before he looked at his brother. "Maybe I shouldn't have come in," he mumbled.

"It's a little too late now," Sam pointed out as he patted Dean on the back. "Come on. We'll finish up quickly and then we'll get back to the motel, okay?"

That seemed good enough for Dean. He followed his brother back into the isle and stood in front of the cold and flu medicines. "Pick whichever one you want. I'm going to get some cough drops. Honey, right?"

Dean nodded slowly as he kneeled in front of the rows and rows of medicine and looked at each of them. Sam went to grab the cough drops, extra tissues, and some tea bags. He knew that Dean probably wouldn't drink it, but he would when his throat became too sore to actually accomplish much. 

He headed back to Dean and realized that he was still struggling to pick something. Sam kneeled beside his brother and picked up the first one that he saw. "This one good or.....?”

Dean looked at it tiredly before he nodded. "Yeah, it's great. Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh!"

Sam was a little more prepared for that then Dean had been unfortunately. Sam watched as Dean struggled to pull a few tissues from the box to give his nose a thorough honk.. He coughed painfully and Sam remembered with a frown that Dean had just been in the hospital an hour ago. 

Dean finally composed himself and struggled to stand. He leaned against Sam while his brother helped him upright. "Alright, let's get going," whispered Sam as he helped his brother toward the front of the store. They certainly didn't want to spend more time here than they already had to.

Dean was still partially in a daze and Sam had to actually yank his brother forward and to the registers. It was a rather small store, but the line at the only register open was fairly long. Sam gnawed at his lip. He would've told Dean to go back and wait in the Impala, but he wasn't sure that his brother could make it there on his own. So, he settled for just staying close to him and hoping that Dean would be as lucid as possible.

"Dean, move forward," Sam urged as he nudged Dean forward to step in line.

The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder in the line, Dean periodically sniffling in Sam's sweatshirt. Sam looked over and saw the crusty slime on the ends of his sweatshirt. Sam raised an eyebrow while Dean almost growled.

"Whadt," he seethed.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. I just was looking," he lied.

Dean looked down at the sleeve before he realized why Sam was so out of it. "I'll clean id ub, I probise."

Sam was starting to really understand Dean's stuffy talk, which was alarming. He nodded slowly since that was what his brother needed to see. He was sure that Dean would clean his sweatshirt eventually, but he would leave it so long that the crusted snot would be almost impossible to get out. That was Dean. Procrastinate until the last possible moment until it was almost too late.

"Eh, Sabby!"

Sam looked over and saw his brother with his head slightly bowed and nostrils flaring. He sniffed heavily as a trickle of snot threatened to drip out. He panted heavily with his eyes threatening to jam close. His breathing was loud almost against Sam's ear and Sam knew that time of of the essence.

"Dude, you're holding an entire box of tissues. I don't know what you want me to do," Sam hissed as he continued to watch his struggling brother.

"But....eh...huh....hih....I'b in....huh...public!"

Sam looked around and saw half interested people looking at either the candy, other people, their phones, or just staring off into space. He highly doubted that they were looking at his brother’s internal struggle, but they would certainly notice when he let out a messy and uncontrollable sneeze or five. There was no way around this and Sam couldn't help but fumble in the tissue box to try and help his brother.

"Here," exclaimed Sam as he pulled out a couple and cupped it over his brother's face just in time.

"Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hutcshsh!"

Sam wanted to run for the hills. He felt wetness seep through the tissues and his entire body shuddered. He quickly removed his hand so that Dean's hands were replacing his. Sam glared at his brother, but Dean was too preoccupied to care.

His nose streamed like a waterfall and no tissues in the world could probably stem that. He kept replacing the tissues with new ones until they became so wet and useless that he was forced to put them in his pockets and grab more. Sam was aware of some mucus bypassing the tissue and running down his face, almost falling on Sam's sweatshirt.

"Sab," moaned Dean as he looked around to see most of the eyes still on him.

For once Sam appreciated the fact that he was so large. He stepped in front of his brother to shield him from the people behind them. "It's alright. You can't help it."

Dean blinked his eyes as he scrunched up his nose and discarded yet another batch before grabbing some more. He snuffled heavily, just wanting this to be over. Sam shook his head as he rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't you dare do that," he whispered sternly. "That can cause strep throat or a sinus infection."

Dean growled before it caused him to cough heavily, nearly falling against his brother. "I don'd care."

Sam didn't take what Dean said very seriously, but he did know how angry his brother was with being seen like this in public. Sam wanted to point out that they wouldn't be in this predicament if it wasn't for Dean wanting to come in. Yet, that seemed insensitive and his brother was not in the mood to joke around.

"Next," called the cashier.

Sam nudged the still sniffling Dean forward and started to put their cold supplies on the belt. The cashier scanned them before she looked up to Dean, who looked like he was jamming the tissues actually up his still twitching nostrils. 

"I'm betting these are for you," she assessed as she scanned each item.

Dean was not in the mood to flirt with her, which should've sent up red flags for Sam. But, Sam just ushered him behind him so that he couldn't see her and she couldn't see him. Once he was behind Sam, he blew his nose softly. A large glob fell into the tissue and he was forced to close it and discard it into the pocket of Sam’s sweatshirt. He hung his head as he waited patiently to take back the tissues. In the mean time it was just a lot of sniffling.

Eventually Sam became infuriated by the sniffling. He reached over, grabbed the half used tissue box, and handed it over to Dean. Dean staggered a bit as Sam thrust the tissues against his chest. Dean quickly dove into them and cleaned up the wet undersides of his nostrils.  
  
Sam quickly paid for everything since he wanted to get his brother out there as soon as possible. It had been a bit more expensive than he had initially thought. Dean was right; they were going to need to play a lot more games of pool to keep them afloat and pay off the hospital bill.

"Come on, Dean. You're holding up the line," joked Sam as he helped his brother forward since Dean was standing rigid in almost fear. His eyes were round as he breathed loudly through his mouth, a small stream of mucus dripping down his nose.

"Sabby, wait," Dean gasped as he looked over to his brother with his eyes widening.

Sam knew what was coming. He sighed as he tugged Dean over to the nearest bench at the end of the register. Dean sat down heavily as he looked at Sam with his breath heaving. His eyes fluttered, his breath hitched, and his nostrils flared so much that it looked like birds could've flown in there. The base of his nose twitched almost like he was a rabbit.

"Don't you dare sneeze on me," Sam told him sternly.

Dean turned his head away from his brother in the opposite direction. Dean sucked in a breath before nothing. He hung his head and looked back to Sam. "Won'd cobe."

"Really? Well, luckily I had an older brother who was always bothering me when I had to sneeze by flicking my nose. I guess that I should return the favor," he joked as he leaned forward and flicked the absolute tip of Dean's nose.

Dean turned away in shock that Sam had just done that. His mouth gaped open as he looked to his brother. His breath hitched beyond expectation as he lifted a tissue and buried his nose into it. He let out three monstrous sneezes that jolted his entire body.

"Hutcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh!"

"Bless you," Sam chided as he lifted his head and ran a finger under his nose, sniffling heavily. 

Dean rubbed a tissue against the underside of his nose before he raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Sam?"


	8. Hiding In Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam will do anything in his power to keep his illness from his sick brother.

Sam was well aware of his brother looking at him intently, deep green eyes glowing not just in fever, but also in concern. He shook out his shoulders in embarrassment. "Let's go, Dean. I want to get you home and in bed."

"Sorry, Sabby. I dond't roll thadt way," Dean laughed as he snuffled deeply.

Sam rolled his eyes as he elbowed Dean roughly in the ribs. "Shut up! Let's go," he urged as he yanked Dean forward with the plastic bags hanging in his other hand.

Dean didn't say anything more as they walked out of the store and over to the Impala. Dean stopped at the passenger side, coughing against the side of the car. He sniffed hard as he opened the door and almost fell onto the seat. He looked up with round eyes, struggling to catch his breath. He pressed a hand against his chest as he tried to relax the tightness that he felt in there.

Sam threw the bags in the back before he climbed into the driver's side. He stretched out ever so slightly as he felt his body ache. He didn't want to tell his brother that, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to hide it for long. Dean was a hunter. That meant that he was observant, even thought he was sick.

"Sabby, are we goig," asked Dean softly.

Sam shook his head. "Oh, yeah," he answered as he pulled the Impala out of park and drove back toward the motel.

The two brothers didn't speak the entire way to the motel. That might have had something to do with the fact that Dean could not stop coughing. It was starting to annoy Sam. He would never tell his brother that, but it was starting to get on his nerves.

Sam pulled into the motel and parked the Impala. Once he did he turned backwards and reached for the bags. 

"Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh!"

Sam gasped in surprise as he felt something wet bounce against his shoulder and spray his neck. Sam turned his head and saw his brother rubbing feebly at his nose with a bundle of tissues. "I'b sorry! I'b so sorry," he gasped in surprise. "I didn't feel id combing."

"I can tell," answered Sam as he reached into Dean's tissue box and pulled some off. He rubbed it against his neck before he tossed it in Dean's lap. "I may have said that I needed to shower, but not in your snot!"

Dean looked beyond embarrassed. That was a feat since Dean was almost never embarrassed. Sam hadn't meant to humiliate him, but he had just been so furious that Dean had sneezed all over him. He was already starting to feel awful and that had been the first thing that had come to mind.

Dean huffed as he opened the door and headed into the motel without a word. Sam pressed his fingers against his temple before he grabbed the bags that they needed and followed his brother in. He knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to try and make conversation with him just yet. So, he would do his best to ignore him for the time being in a tiny motel that they barely had enough room to move around in with Dean feeling sick and Sam just starting to.

Sam set the bags down on the small table and started to go through them. They had gotten enough medicine to medicate an army, but better to be prepared then not. He found the kind that he would take and tucked it into his jean pocket. He couldn't risk taking it in front of Dean, at least not yet. He grabbed the one that Dean had chosen and cracked open the top. He grabbed a bottle of water and brought it over to Dean.

"Here," Sam instructed as he poured the medicine into a cup and handed it to his brother.

Dean propped himself up on his elbows and screwed up his face at Sam. That was about what he was expecting, but he wasn't about to admit it. It was best just to bite his tongue and try his best not to snap back. That was how they had gotten into this predicament in the first place.

"You have to take it," Sam continued since he suspected that Dean would've just stared at him for the duration of the night if he didn't initiate the conversation.

Dean continued to screw up his face as he swiped the cup from Sam. He tipped it into his mouth and swallowed it in one go. He shook his head in disgust as he reached for the water. He opened the cap and poured it down his throat. He grimaced at the pain that it brought his throat before he rubbed the back of his hand against his sweaty forehead. He didn't say a word to Sam as he turned over in bed, coughing wetly against his fist.

"Dean-" Sam began.

"Just leabe be alone, Sabby," snarled Dean as he broke into another coughing fit. This one seemed to grip his entire body and shook the bed with him. Dean struggled to breathe, and for a few moments both brothers were beyond afraid. However, it didn't take long for Dean to regain his composure, helping both Winchesters relax.

"Dean-" Sam tried once more.

"Leabe. Be. Alone. Sabby."

That was all that Sam needed to hear. He decided that it would probably be best to let Dean work it out on his own. When he wanted to talk—if he wanted to talk—then Sam would be there. But, until then it would just be for the two of them to coexist together almost in silence.

"Fine. If that's what you want. I'm going to take a shower," Sam announced as he sat up from Dean's bed and sighed heavily. 

He knew that Dean wasn't about to say anything, but he just wished that he hadn't said what he had said to Dean in the car. Then they might not actually be where they were now. But, there was no way that Sam would say that. Best let Dean come to that conclusion on his own.  
  
"Hutcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh!"

Sam looked over his shoulder at his brother one last time while he headed into the bathroom. He closed the door and pulled the cold medicine out from his pocket. He took off the cap and poured the medicine into it. He tipped it into his mouth and swallowed it down with a grimace. He shook his head and shivered as he turned on the shower with water flooding the tub.

He took off his clothes and rubbed a hand against his nose as he tried to ignore the vacant tickling sensation through it. He rubbed the tip of his nose with his pam so fiercely against his cheek that he thought it was going to break. He snuffled hard, looking at the sink, which was starting to fog up thanks to the steam.

"ItcshhsSh! ItcshSHhsh!"

Sam staggered forward as he lifted a hand to rub at his nose. He prayed that Dean didn't hear him, but even if he had, he wasn't about to come into the bathroom. Sam sniffled blearily as he stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water to cascade down his aching body. He knew that it wouldn't last long, so it was best to soak up the warm water when he still could.

It wasn't long before the water turned ice cold, sending fierce tremors through him. Sam jumped out of the shower and grumbled in frustration. It appeared that in the shower it felt like his chest had tightened. It was getting harder to breathe and he realized that this is probably how Dean had felt for the past couple of days. He closed his eyes tightly and changed into the clothes that he had been wearing since he had forgotten to bring in any from his duffle.

He shivered once more before he headed into the bedroom. He closed his eyes ever so slightly before he headed over to his bed. He completely bypassed his brother, even though he could tell that Dean was partially looking at him behind him. He didn't say anything, but he watched his little brother intently.

Sam fell into the bed and kicked off his socks. He smothered a few silent coughs into his fist before he closed his eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He pulled the covers around himself so tightly that it stopped the shivering for the time being. It took a while, but he eventually drifted off to sleep.


	9. Getting Through Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misery often thrives with company, which is a fact that Dean and Sam try to embrace.

Coughing woke Dean up, but for the first time in a while it wasn't his. He opened his eyes and sat up in bed, his hair sticking up in unruly tufts. "Er, Sabby? Sabby, that you?"

The coughing continued to grow louder and louder and harsher with every passing second. It sounded terrible and Dean couldn't just lay there. He had to do something to help his brother, since Sam had been helping him for the past few days. They may have experienced a difference of opinion, but that didn't mean that he was going to abandon his brother in a time of need.

"Sab," Dean questioned once more.

Sam still coughed and Dean knew that he was still asleep or he would've answered to his name, no matter how stuffy it sounded. Dean crept over to his brother and rested a hand on his shoulder, even though Sam was facing away from him with his eyes tightly closed almost in pain.

"Sab, wake up. Wake up," Dean urged as he started to shake Sam. His body shook gingerly and, at first, Dean was sure that Sam wouldn't be able to wake up. Horror had gripped his heart for a moment when Sam wouldn't move.

Sam suddenly shot up from his spot on the bed and gasped in surprise as he finally sucked in air. It traveled all the way up his mouth and up his nose. It tickled his nose madly, sending it twitching. He buckled forward suddenly and sneezed before he could bring his hands up to his face to cover.  
  
"ItcshSHhh! ItcshShhh! ItcshSHhh!"

Sam's sneezing echoed around the room much louder than Dean's ever could. Dean hadn't heard his brother sneeze that loud before and he knew that it couldn't be good. He frowned as he watched Sam sniffle in surprise as clear, gooey snot ran from his nostrils. He looked around in embarrassment and Dean was so stunned at the display that he just stood there.

"Ub, Deadn," Sam mumbled as he pursed his lips so that nothing came into his mouth.

Dean shook his head as he looked around. "Yeah, yeah. Tissues. I'b on id!" He looked around and quickly found the box rested on his bed. He handed it over to his brother and forced himself to look away. It was probably best to give Sam the same privacy that he had given Dean when things had been reversed.

Sam pulled a bundle from the box and blew his nose. Once he was finished he set it aside and looked over to his brother as if he was just realizing that his brother was there. He gulped as he turned away.

"Hey, don'd do thadt," Dean grumbled as he tapped at his brother's shoulder to turn his attention back to Dean.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I can't understand you," he joked as he sniffed powerfully.

Dean rolled his eyes. Well, two could play that game. He pulled out a few tissues and blew his nose. Once he had he looked over to his brother. "Happy," he asked.

"Not really," answered Sam as he lifted a hand and rubbed his palms against his eyes as powerfully as possible to try and abate the headache he felt growing behind his eyes.

Dean frowned as he looked over at his brother. It suddenly seemed to make sense why Sam had been acting the way that he had been. "How long?"

"What," asked Sam hollowly.

Dean rolled his eyes once more. "You can understand me and you know it. How long have you been sick?"

Sam thought for a moment, looking down and picking at his cuticles. His fingers pulled at the edge of the comforter. "Not that long. Few days maybe."

Dean didn't believe Sam for a minute. But, he had been too sick to actually be concerned about Sam's health. He inwardly cursed himself for not worrying about his brother more. "Sab, why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to worry you when you were sick," answered Sam as he sniffed heavily and rubbed a hand against his nose, coughed fitfully. His shoulders shook and he struggled for breath.

Dean leaned in toward his brother and patted his back strongly. Sam regained his breath and looked to his brother through watery eyes. "Thank you," he rasped.

"Let me get you some water. It might help with the cough," Dean told him as he swung his legs over from the side of the bed and hurried over to the small fridge. He pulled out a half drank bottle of water. He assumed that Sam wouldn't mind sharing one with him considering that they both had the exact same illness.

Dean brought the bottle over and nudged it over to Sam. Sam took it and opened it with shaky hands. He poured it into his mouth and swallowed painfully. His throat immediately began to ache and it caused him to stop drinking. He handed it back to his brother and nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, Dean," he rasped.

Dean nodded as a smile spread across his face. "Don't mention it." He stretched out a hand and felt it against Sam's forehead. Sam allowed his brother to do so, even though Dean couldn't feel anything. He swore under his breath as he drew backwards.

"What's wrong," asked Sam in fear.

"It's just that I can't tell if you're warm or not because I still have a fever," Dean grumbled as he drummed his fingers against his leg. "Looks like we're going to have to break out the thermometer."

Before Sam could object, Dean stepped off the bed again and walked over to the first aid kit that Sam had set on the counter. He rummaged through until he found what he was looking for. He walked over to his brother and sat down beside him. He rubbed the tip off since he wasn't sure the last time it had been used before he came toward Sam's mouth.

"Open up," he cooed in amusement.

Sam looked over to him and frowned. "Dean—“

"Just do it, Sam. You need to just do as I say, just like I did for you," Dean pointed out, even though he knew that wasn't true in the slightest. He had been pretty hard on Sam and had scared him more than he had wanted to. That might be why Sam was so drained now.  
  
Sam complied as he took the thermometer from his brother and stuck the tip into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he sniffled a bit. He lifted a hand to rub at his nose while he looked at his brother.

Dean immediately battered Sam's hand away from his face. "Sam, stop," Dean chided as if Sam was five again. "Let it do what it needs to do."

Sam screwed up his face as he gave another liquid sniff. "Deadn!"

"What, Sabby," asked Dean in exasperation. 

"ItcsHsHs! ITcshSHh! ITCSHsh!"

The thermometer fell from Sam's mouth. He stretched out a hand to catch it before he cupped his other hand over his nose. It seemed to take a while before Dean understood what Sam needed again. 

Dean found the box lost in the shuffle of covers before he pulled out a few and pressed it into Sam's other hand. He turned away as Sam clamped the tissue over his nose and blew tiredly. He managed to find a dry patch of the tissue to rub at his hand before he looked to his brother. "Sorry," he croaked.

"It's alright," answered Dean as he picked up the thermometer and turned it on once more. "Let's try it again, but just take it out if that happens again. No need to tell me.”

Sam nodded as he took the thermometer from his mouth and tucked it under his tongue. It didn't take as long to go off as Sam originally thought. He let Dean take it out of his mouth and he looked up to his brother with round eyes. "How bad is it?"

"102.4. That's certainly enough to make you uncomfortable," Dean pointed out as he lifted a fist to his nose and breathed deeply. "How about we get something in you?"

Sam coughed painfully as he turned and pressed his face into his shoulder to avoid coughing on his brother. "You too," he choked out.

Dean knew that this would be the only way that he would get Sam to agree to take his own medicine. "Yeah, alright," he answered, turning heavily with his elbow lifted and his face hovering in it. His breath hitched swiftly as his nose twitched. His eyes fluttered, forcing him forward into his elbow. "Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh! Hutcshsh! Hetcshsh!"

Sam coughed lightly as he looked over to his sniffling brother, fumbling for the tissue box as he kept his hand poised under his nose as mucus dripped into it. He had almost forgotten that his brother was sick too. "Bless you," he whispered.

Dean smiled ever so slightly as he blew his nose into a tissue. His nose felt it had been rubbed completely raw, but he wouldn't complain to Sam about it. It was time to be the big brother that he was used to being.

He walked over to the counter once more and found the medicine that he had been given a few hours earlier. He picked it up before he noticed that Sam was shifting in bed. He walked over and saw him take out another medicine bottle from his pocket. He looked up at Dean sheepishly.

Sam sniffed as he tried to stop a bubble of snot from trickling down his face. "Took this earlier," he sniffed as it continued to threaten going down his face.

Dean nodded as he sat down on the side of the bed once more. He pulled out a few tissues and pressed them against Sam's nose. Sam was hardly aware of what was happening and Dean vowed to himself that he would never mention this to his brother again. Instead he cleaned up Sam's nose wordlessly and turned back to the medicine. He opened the top and poured a generous amount of the radioactive green goo into the cap. He waved it around Sam's face a bit before he perched it at his lips.

"Just take it in one go. It tastes horrible, but not for too long," Dean told him. 

Sam allowed his bother to tip it into his mouth while he swallowed it down. He shuddered at the taste as Dean smiled. "Looks like that's payback for you," Dean pointed out as he nudged Sam gingerly.

Sam looked over to his brother and pointed to the other bottle of medicine. "Here. Your turn," he rasped.

"Alright, just don't talk anymore! It sounds like you've been over your throat with sandpaper or something," Dean pointed out as he took the medicine himself and looked back over to his brother. "Hopefully that will help with both of our fevers."

"Hopefully," mumbled Sam as he closed his eyes shut tightly and breathed loudly through his mouth. 

Dean knew that it wouldn't be long until his brother fell asleep, or really until both of them fell asleep. However, he didn't want to go to sleep before his brother in case Sam needed him for something, anything. But, he was tired from his ordeal that day. Dean feared if he laid down then he probably wouldn't get up. There was only one solution.

"Scoot over," commanded Dean as he nudged his brother in the bed.

Sam dragged himself to one side of the bed while Dean took up the other side. They hadn't done this in what felt like years. Dean would never admit it, but it was probably when he felt the most safe when he was with his brother like that. He had no idea if Sam felt the same way, but he was sure that he would never find it out.

Dean threw the covers over his shivering brother and decided to just sit on top of them since he was sweating. He stretched out a bit, but he let his brother have the majority of the bed. "Comfortable," Dean asked.

Sam nodded as he stretched out his neck and rested it on Dean's shoulder like he used to do when they were young and shared the backseat of the Impala. He hadn't done it in forever and Sam wasn't sure how Dean would take it. To his relief, Dean relaxed against him.

Suddenly, Sam tensed as he felt the familiar itch travel through his nose. He stiffened and Dean looked over. "Sam, are you okay," Dean asked.

'ITCshsShh! ItcshSHhhs! ITCshshshSh!"

Dean felt something wet and slimy drip down the side of his bare neck. He sighed as he looked to his brother, who was rubbing madly at his tickling nose. "I guess that's payback again, right?"

"Sorry," Sam sniffled as he continued to rub at his nose. "I'b so sorry!"

"Here," chided Dean as he picked up the box and handed it to his brother. "It's alright. Just blow your nose," he instructed as he grabbed a few tissues to clean off his neck. 

Sam did as he was told and blew his nose loudly. Once he was finished he kept them bundled in his hand for later use. He laid back against his brother and Dean felt dead weight against him. "You good now," asked Dean.

"Yep, I'b good," answered Sam in a sleepy voice.

"Looks like we're going to get through this together, huh," Dean pointed out since that was how it always went. They would look after each other and whenever one was going through something, the other would always help them get through it. That's how things had always been and that's how things would always be.

"Deand," whispered Sam.

Dean blinked open one of his eyes. "Yeah, Sam," he asked.

"I'b miserable," answered Sam almost in embarrassment as he closed his eyes tightly. 

Dean struggled not to roll his eyes at his brother. He sighed as he wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulder, hugging him close. "I know, bud. I am too. But, if it's one thing that I've learned, it’s that misery loves company."

Sam smiled as he sniffed loudly against Dean's neck and Dean could only imagine the snot that was dripping from his nostrils. "Thanks for everything," Sam mumbled.

Dean nodded slowly. "Of course. I'm your brother. It's what we do. But, for now on I'm not going to have a moody teenager, okay? If something bothers you then you tell me. You don't just shut down, alright," Dean ordered.

Sam seemed to think about it for a moment before he finally let out a deep sigh. "Alright. So, what do you want to know?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! I really enjoyed writing it and exploring the dynamic between Dean and Sam, especially with both of them being ill. I hope you guys enjoyed and are staying safe and healthy!


End file.
